Next Steps
by chaletfan
Summary: The Scoobs have gone their separate ways. This follows Xander....Completed.
1. Chapter 1

**One**

Cairo sweated.

Cairo bled.

There had been reports creeping out of the city for months now, reports that something had begun killing indiscriminately and violently. The deaths were innumerable … unmentionable.

Outsiders blamed gang wars, some blamed viral illnesses and some blamed poisoned water supplies.

Arrests were made. Gangs broken up and prisons rammed full of trouble makers. Police mounted surveillance campaigns but the people still died.

It was when the girl was found in the museum, the world famous home of Egyptian treasures. That was when the tourists stopped coming.

She was young, only just come of age. She was found on a Monday morning, in the Tutankhamen room, her blooded hands wrapped around the boy king's death mask.

And her organs were placed in small earthenware jars around her.

The girl's death seemed to trigger something in the national psyche. People began to leave the city. It wasn't noticeable for the first few weeks, but slowly Cairo began to thin. It became a shell. Nobody walked the streets at night. Nobody even went outside if they could help it.

One day, the city's constant traffic stopped.

Silence.

Fear threading through the streets on wings.

And the evil spread.


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**

The dark faced man stared at her. "Not like that you idiot," he snarled as he flipped the snooker cue in his hands before ramming into the chest of the beast. "You're a Slayer," he pointed out as the dust fell around him, "Not some street brawling moron."

The girl looked with increasing anger at him before she pivoted lightly on her feet and swept one leg out in a belting kick. The vampire flew backwards from the impact and crashed onto the stage. "You're an ignorant bastard," she snapped as she staked another vampire with unerring aim before leaping onto the stage and neatly garrotting the first with a speaker cable.

"Fine," he said, "Fine." He threw his hands up in the air, "Fine." He looked at her one more time before turning and walking out of the club.

She darted an annoyed look at him before smacking her fist into the final vampire. The girl slid to the side and launched herself off the wall into the demon. They both crashed to the floor and she grabbed a chair and broke off the leg by the simple method of crashing the whole article on the vampire's head. The girl bounced backwards and neatly staked the creature, wrinkling her face slightly as the dust exploded in front of her.

Sound was beginning to build outside and the girl quickly made her way of the bar following the same route that the man had taken. She came across the man quickly Harry Lime Lurking in a doorway. The girl saw with interest how the sweat was beading on his brow.

"I'm sorry," she said. The heat of the night hung between them. "It's just that – I've never really had a Watcher. I've just learnt to do things –"

"I'm not a Watcher," came the quiet reply, cutting in before her tongue ran away with her. He suddenly swept a hand across his brow, grimacing slightly as tiny beads of sweat fell into his eye. "I may not be a Watcher," he muttered as a wry smile crinkled across his face. "I'm certainly not ignorant. I've seen the nasties that this world has got to offer and there's not much that surprises me now."

He motioned to her to follow him and they began to make their way along the alleys that threaded through the city like tributaries of a river. "I'm from America," he said.

She laughed, "So Mr Big Shot American how did you find me? From what I heard there are Slayer's all over the world now. Why pick me?"

He looked thoughtful and she got the impression he was considering his response. He had a manner about him that made her feel each and every word from his mouth was precious.

"Slayer's all over the world there is," and he laughed suddenly at something she didn't quite understand, "Sorry for the Yoda-ing." She still didn't quite understand. "There are Slayer's all over the world and one of my jobs is to visit them – as many as possible. There's been too many years of the Slayer being alone, being One against the Darkness, and when Willow worked the mojo it changed. For the better I might add."

"I'm sorry," she said slowly, "but I'm not really following."

"You're not alone," he said steadily, "You're not alone in this fight."

She looked downwards. "Well," she murmured, "Well. I mean – I am."

He looked surprised. "I know we got off on the wrong foot and everything but do you not understand what I'm saying?"

There was a sudden flash of fire in her eyes. "I understand full well Mr Harris," she spat suddenly, anger flooding across her face, "And I fight alone." She stared at him daring him to respond.

"Not good enough, Layla. Not good enough. Especially not here – now. Not when things have got this bad." His voice was still calm, and she noticed out of the corner of her eye that his hands had balled in white-knuckle tight fists.

She turned away from him contemptuously, "I do not need to listen to this."

"Then why are you still here?"

Layla paused, her anger flooding away from her in one fell swoop. She didn't know why she had let him fight with her – talk with her – know her! She had had lovers who had known less. "I don't know, Mr American, I don't know why I'm still here but I don't think I can get rid of you that easily," she replied, elegantly shrugging her shoulders. "It is perhaps necessary that I listen to you and then I will make my decision."

Xander smiled; a warm friendly smile that stretched across his face and transformed him from the sober dark-faced man she had met earlier that night. "Well," he said gently, "Let's get something to eat shall we?"

"Where?" replied Layla, as they began to walk down the road. "There is nowhere that will let one as myself in!" She gestured at her clothes laughingly, "I am dusty, and I am sure that is somebody's blood on my trousers."

"I have transport, and the hotel will turn a blind eye if you pay 'em enough." Xander glanced up and down the street before stepping out into the light and unlocking his motorbike from the lamppost. He sensed Layla behind him, watching … waiting. "Jump on," he murmured, kicking the bike into gear.

Layla backed towards him, her eyes darting here and there before swiftly leaping onto the bike and looping her arms around Xander's waist. "One can never be too careful," she replied as he swung the bike into the middle of the road and accelerated down the empty streets.

Xander nodded, eased the bike around a corner and sighed inwardly with relief. After they'd closed the Hellmouth the Scoobies had fragmented across the globe. Buffy and Dawn were in Italy, Willow and Kennedy working the Asian side of things and he'd drawn Africa. Giles, the new head of the Council, had pointed him in the direction of Cairo.

For a Sunnydale vet, Cairo looked rough. And that said something. He'd seen pretty much everything but he'd never seen a city running scared. Scratch that, he'd lived through one End of Days scenario; he just didn't fancy living through another.

But he'd got the girl. He grinned suddenly; it had been a while since he'd said that. There had been that moment where he almost saw a full Slayer Strop begin but they were past that. The key thing was she'd listened to him.

And that was good.

Because this city needed pulling back from the brink.


	3. Chapter 3

**Three**

They walked through the lobby quickly. It seemed as if they were the only people present. Xander occasionally noticed a nervous flash of blue sweep by them and realised that this was the staff – shrunken and terrified.

He turned to Layla politely, "Drink?"

"I – no, not whilst I patrol." Her deep honey coloured eyes looked mildly embarrassed.

Xander shrugged and ordered them both fruit juices. "More refreshing when it's this hot," he said, leading her towards a table. The bar was deserted and quite frankly he was surprised the hotel was still here.

"Many businesses have shut down," said Layla as if she had been reading his thoughts. "It is only the international hotels which stay."

"That's only because the other hotels cover the losses," replied Xander, taking a huge swig of his drink. "Oh that's better."

Layla smiled and sipped at hers. "I will be much more ladylike," remarked the Slayer pointedly.

He grinned back at her. "Well, now our gender stereotypes are established, shall we get down to it?" She nodded and he quickly checked their surroundings before continuing. "There are at least three Slayers in Egypt that we know of – yourself and Hathor both based in Cairo, and Keket who is in Luxor."

"Hathor. Keket," murmured Layla thoughtfully, "Unusual names wouldn't you say?"

Xander looked intrigued, "Do they mean something?"

"Hathor was the Goddess of Destruction and Keket was the Goddess of Darkness. Layla is quite ordinary compared to that and simply means Born At Night" Layla tilted her head to the side slightly, "Goddess of Destruction, Goddess of Darkness and Born at Night. Does that not strike you as odd Mr Harris?"

"Call me Xander. Please." He refrained from talking further, sensing that the Slayer was not finished.

Layla continued, "I have heard tales … things from the demons." Her eyes flashed dark red, "This seems too much of a coincidence."

Xander looked thoughtful, "I agree."

"You do?" Layla looked surprised.

"You tend to save time that way," he remarked wryly, "There's really no such thing as coincidence in this world Layla. And right now I'm somewhat concerned about your fellow Slayers."

They were both silent, thoughts racing across their minds.

Xander was deeply concerned. There had been worries about the Slayers in Egypt when the news of the first killings broke. They should have dealt with this immediately – especially with two of them based in the city that seemed to be the crux of the problem. Somewhere something had gone badly wrong, leaving only one girl in front of him fighting the darkness all by herself. He shook his head slightly, feeling sudden emotion as he remembered Faith and almost unconsciously his hands tightened around the glass. There was no way he was letting Layla go through what Faith had suffered.

"What happened to your last Watcher?" The words came from deep inside, and he forced them out, regaining control of himself.

"It was The First," replied Layla, darkness across her face. "I was only a Potential then but she was my mother – my sister – my family. My everything." Her voice faded into silence and he knew she was reliving it all.

"I'm sorry."

Layla believed him. There was something about this man that spoke of great suffering. And she wondered briefly what had happened to his eye. "She sacrificed herself for me. I escaped into the underbelly of the city, living off the streets and hiding. I ran and ran. On the last day, when I felt as if I could not run any longer, I changed. I became a Slayer … and the hunters became the hunted."

She sighed deeply and looked up, "I never knew there were others like me until a few weeks ago. Every day after I thought somebody would come but nobody ever did." A dry sob escaped her suddenly and she rose, a tall graceful figure that drew admiring glances from the few staff members at present. "I will return tomorrow morning, Mr Harris – Xander." She smiled at him and he was suddenly reminded of when he had first fallen in love with Buffy. "I am glad you are here."

He watched her leave and ordered himself a coffee before going to the office where the hotel had arranged internet access and a telephone for him. "Always researchin'," he groused as he settled himself in front of the computer, hand feverishly gripping his source of caffeine, "Always the one with the no sleep and the researching."

Xander Harris settled in for a long night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Four**

He saw her. Felt her. Loved her.

He missed her when he slept.

Light blundered into his eyes and Xander woke up. He'd slept with the window open, hoping somehow that the cool air would help him sleep and as he lay there staring at his watch he realised he had managed almost one hours worth of decent sleep. Almost a record.

Still, hanging with the Buff and the forces of evil meant that a guy usually managed to cope with snatching thirty seconds of sleep a night. Didn't mean he had to like it.

He groaned and flung a hand out of bed, impacting heavily into the piles of print-outs he had found last night. There was a moment when his sleep-addled brain wondered why it was snowing but then he realised and just simply and economically cursed as sheets of paper landed around him.

Willow had e-mailed information about Hathor and Keket to him last night. She'd managed to stumble across an internet connection in Nepal and whilst Kennedy amused herself taking out gang-fighting Vamps, Will had e-mailed like, well, magic. In quicker time than it was taking Xander to shave himself, she'd found tons of stuff on both goddesses. She'd also warned him to be careful.

Xander was always careful. He didn't have another eye to lose.

He stood under the shower and tilted his head back to feel the water run down his neck.

Something felt different. He fumbled at the shower controls trying to change the water temperature, but it still stayed at that slightly uncomfortable warmth. He opened his eyes. And he screamed.

Because the water was blood.

Xander flung himself out of the cubicle and swiftly turned the shower off. He stood there for a moment shaking and lost for words before scrubbing feverishly at his body with a towel.

He emptied the bottles of water he had bought last night into the sink and plunged his head into the ice cold water with relief. He was still shaking and swore at himself as he opened the mini bar and emptied everything into the sink. Bathing in vodka was a new experience, but he had to get this off he had to he had too the blood the blood oh god the blood!

As swiftly as it had come, his panic attack fled again, and he stood there for a moment grimly surveying the blood streaked bathroom as his control returned.

"I," he said slowly, "Am Asking For Another Room." His gaze fell on the depleted mini bar, "And That Is Going On Expenses."

Ramming the print-outs in his rucksack, he slung the bag over his shoulder and firmly walked out of the room leaving the door swaying softly behind him.

The hotel was still deathly quiet. A woman stood uncomfortably behind the reception, dwarfed in the huge lobby room. Xander nodded a greeting at her and she managed a weak smile.

"I'm, uh, gonna have to change rooms," said Xander slowly, watching her eyes, "There seems to be some sort of a problem with the plumbing."

"It is everywhere," was the soft pained reply. "I – I can change your room, there is no problem with that … but I have to tell you … it is everywhere … everywhere." Tears began to run down her face and she looked at him, her body shaking with fear. "It is everywhere Mr Harris. Everywhere."

There were times when Xander wished he had the empathy of Willow, she would have hugged the woman – comforted her – calmed her. He stood still for a moment, realising that the woman was beyond his help. The best thing he could do was find Layla and stop this. Whatever this was.

He touched the woman gently on her arm, holding his hand there feeling her ice cold skin beneath his touch. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so very sorry."


	5. Chapter 5

**Five**

He waited outside the hotel, feeling the sun beat down upon him. It was unusual, in Xander law anyway, for the creatures of the night to be all powerful in one of the sunniest countries on earth. Perverse really. However they had had big ole parties in Sunnydale, so maybe the evil things weren't quite that bright.

The few people out on the streets darted hostile looks at him as they scurried about their business. He noticed nearly all of them were carrying huge tubs of water. It was all over the city then and Xander wondered briefly whether it was all over the country. No, couldn't be, he decided because he'd have so got a call about it. Most likely Giles would have been following the case through the news networks and he'd never keep something like that to himself. Looked like the whole blood-water thing was localised. For Now.

"Layla," he hummed, "Got me on my knees, Layla; I'm begging, darling plea-"

"Good morning," said the Slayer with an amused smile, "Shall we dance?"

"I could have danced all night," retorted Xander trying to cover his embarrassment.

"Yes," replied Layla soothingly and patting his shoulder, "I'm sure you could." She laughed as Xander pulled himself away from her, all red-faced and grumbling. "Anyway," she said, pretending not to notice his discomfort, "I have a suggestion for our first stop today – and we'll need your bike."

Moments later they were speeding through the near-empty streets, Layla behind him yelling directions into his ear. Xander opened up the throttle and the bike whipped down a long deserted highway. The traffic was non existent – he'd overtaken one old ramshackle car and that had been it. "Keep straight on," shouted Layla and gestured forward with her hand, "You'll know it when you see it."

And suddenly he swore in sheer astonishment. Layla laughed at his surprise as he eased the bike off the road and carefully locked it up. "Lots of people think – thought – that they are some sort of five day hike to the middle of the desert. None of the films ever show how close the city has got to them –" She stood in front of him, hair windswept and eyes full of pride, "These are the Great Pyramids, Xander Harris; Our Greatest Treasures."

For once in his life, Xander was lost for words and simply dropped to his knees as he stared at them. He'd never seen anything in the world quite like this. Six inch high replicas on the edge of the Sunnydale crazy golf course just weren't the same. He found himself shaking his head slowly, almost disbelieving he was there. "Damn," he said slowly, "Damn."

Layla led the way up the wide track. "Usually this would be packed with people but these days tourists are rare," she said as they walked towards the first pyramid.

Xander nodded. His jaw felt slack as he found himself just staring at them. "They're … so big." The words dropped out of his mouth and he laughed suddenly with self-conscious shame, "Oh that didn't sound like Cletus the Slack Jawed Yokel."

Layla looked confused for a moment before smiling, "They are almost beyond description aren't they?"

"Yeah," breathed Xander. She'd got it. "Yeah." They rested momentarily on a long earthen road that seemed to thread through the pyramids and Layla offered him water. "Thanks," he muttered, swallowing gratefully, "I kinda ran out this morning."

"It happened to you too?"

"It's all over the city," he replied, "Listen – I did some research last night on Hathor and Keket. But we need some shade for that, I'm not going through it all under the blazing sun. Why did you want us to come here?"

The Slayer looked like fire as she stood up, the sunlight framing her against the stones and Xander was reminded of those pictures he'd seen of ancient Egyptian princesses. "I wanted you to see the Pyramids because you are from Sunnydale."

He looked confused, "I know I'm an illiterate hick American and all that but –" Then he suddenly realised. Big dark places. Huge dark places. "They're in there aren't they?"

The Slayer nodded. "Yes," she said simply, "I have tracked them many times. The whole area is full of vampires. It is like a honeycomb beneath us, full of caverns and secret places. They have defiled this place!"

Xander felt the familiar ice-cold moment before battle. He looked over the terrain, instantly surveying and _knowing_ where to take them. "We start here," he said pointing towards one of the smaller pyramids which was open to the public.

Layla watched him almost shed a skin as he stood there. He pointed out places and proposed ways of attacking the creatures. He was more like her than he realised, noted Layla with a grin and she felt suddenly ashamed for insulting him when they had first met. Her respect for him was growing daily.

"I can't do the magicks," said Xander, his eyes narrowed against the sun, "I don't have the superpowers or the high-falutin' acrobatic skills. But I'm a dab hand with a weapon." He rummaged into his backpack and produced a vicious looking sword and pistol. "I'll keep the pistol for backup," he muttered, easing his grip around the sword hilt, "We just do a little today, more of a warning. There's no need to clean it out fully under there, we can't do that alone. But I sent for Hathor and Keket last night, they should be here by the evening. For now, we do it alone."

"No," replied Layla as she pulled a long thin stave, wickedly pointed at both ends, "We are not alone." She smiled at him – her meaning clear - before motioning her head quickly to the side and breaking into a run.

He followed her up to the top of the visitor's entrance into the pyramid. "It's tight in here," she warned, balancing cat-like on top of the dark hole where bricks had been removed, "Narrow all the way down until a wide chamber. There's a nest in there. That should do as our warning."

He nodded, grim resolve flooding his face. "Don't worry about me." Xander slung his backpack underneath his stomach and lay down, clutching his sword tightly in his hand and balancing his feet on the rickety wooden steps that led in and out of the pyramid. He looked at Layla and nodded, before pushing with his feet and launching down into the darkness.

The heat was awful. Thick cloying heat and he struggled to control his breathing as he skidded down the shaft. The sword smacked into the wall more than once and he swore as the sparks seemed to blind him. He flung his weight to the side to steer around a bend before crashing into a tall wide chamber, the details of which made him gasp. Layla appeared almost instantly beside him, and the two of them stood there and gazed at the sleeping vampires.

Then, they attacked.

He marvelled at how she fought. Xander had long since perfected his fighting technique, lots of chopping and lots of hacking. Layla however had a much more acrobatic style. She seemed to fly at times, bouncing off walls and even the ceiling during one memorable move.

Xander twisted and slammed his fist into the throat of a vampire, following up with a swift kick into the balls. That never failed on the bad guys … or the good come to think of it.

The vampire spat at him and seemed to curl forward in pain before launching himself at Xander's knees, and the two of them smashed backwards into the wall.

Layla screamed her anger and flung her stave backwards into the vampire's heart before snatching it, as the dust still hung around Xander, and attacking the final one.

He watched her, preferring to stay still until the stars and the birdies cleared from his vision. "No!" he snapped as she flipped her stave in her hand, preparing for the death blow, "Not yet!" He stood and moved towards the hissing creature, locking eyes with the beast.

Layla stood there and held it, the pointed end of the stake resting on the demons chest. Xander glanced at her quickly before smacking his fist into the vampire's face, "Who are you with?" he asked in deceptively quiet tones, "I know vampires and they're not smart enough to get a whole city on the run by themselves. You either got outside help, or someone managed to Change Blofeld when we weren't looking."

The vampire spat in his face. "Kill me. I will tell you nothing!"

"Oh we won't kill you," promised Xander, the darkness flashing in his eyes, "At least … not yet." He slammed his head forward into the vampire, ignoring the chill of pain that tore through him. "Who are you working for?"

"He's working for me," commented a new voice, punching Xander soundly in the stomach and as he dropped to the floor he saw Layla fall beside him.

And then there was darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

**Six**

"Xaaander," whispered the voice, "Xaaander."

Then; a different voice. Pent up anger and frustration bleeding into the words, "XANDER!"

He sat up. At least, he tried too. He was bound to what seemed to be some sort of plinth, all frigid marble that almost scalded his skin with its coldness. His head and shoulders were free and painfully he eased himself up onto his elbows, noting bitterly how his hands were firmly bound to the side of the plinth.

"XANDER!" snapped the voice and he turned his head to see Layla, tied up in a similar fashion beside him. "Xander!" she cried, sudden relief in her face, "I was so worried about you!"

"I'm fine," he murmured, "But I guess we're in a bit of a fix yeah?"

Layla nodded grimly. "We're underneath the pyramids – somewhere, I don't know where. I should have sensed it! I shouldn't have let this happen!"

"We all make mistakes," he replied absently, eyes scanning the walls of their prison. Slowly he began to count aloud, "One – Two – Three-"

Layla looked astonished at him, "What on earth are you doing!" she hissed.

He stared at her, pointedly emphasising his numbers "Four – Five – Six –"

And a tall elegant man walked into the cavern.

"Seven," said Xander with a hint of pleasure in his voice. "See, the baddies always knows when you come round. They've got to judge their entrance, after ten seconds it's kinda blasé but seven? That's a nice entrance you got there."

"Thanks," said the man, walking forwards and producing a seat as if out of nowhere. "So who are you two? You –" he pointed at Layla as he sat down, "You I suppose are a Slayer, yes? But you, I'm not quite sure who you are."

Xander smiled, "Well if you'd have banged my head a little bit harder, I don't think I'd be able to tell you that myself."

The man shrugged. "Well, you know how it goes. Heat of battle and all that." He paused, contemplating the two bound figures. Xander coolly looking back at him and Layla seemed to be almost ready to rip out of her bonds and kill him there and then. "Do you want the big introduction?"

"It'd be nice," said Layla with obvious sarcasm in her voice.

He tutted gently, "My name is Andrew. I was an explorer, a tomb-searcher in my youth."

"Was that pre-evil or post evil?" snarled Layla.

Andrew glared at her, the yellow light burning in his eyes as his fangs suddenly flashed. "One more comment out of you girl, and I'll eat you where you lie." His face shifted back into its human visage and he continued placidly as if she had not spoken. "I have been here since 1934, searching, looking, digging."

Xander cleared his throat gently, "Can I ask a question? Not wanting to be eaten or anything…" Andrew nodded graciously. "What have you been looking for?"

"Ah," smiled the vampire, "That would be telling now wouldn't it. Suffice to say, I had a theorem that was not accepted by many of the scholars of my day … I worked here in Egypt for many years and finally, I stumbled upon an entrance to the catacombs that thread beneath the city. And on that day I was Sired. She let me work for her, continuing my research until She needed me. Upon that day her army will finish this city and raze it to the ground." Andrew smiled wickedly, the lust evident on his face, "Any questions?"

Layla remained stubbornly silent, not trusting herself to speak without losing her temper. Xander however, replied in quiet conversational tones as if discussing the weather, "She must have meant a lot to you."

"You have no idea," said Andrew softly, "I would do anything for her. That's why I'm not killing you both here and now. She left instructions for any intruders to wait until she arrived. However long that took…" He licked his lips almost unconsciously, "I've always fancied the taste of a Slayer and you'll do as an aperitif, my dear fellow."

"Have you heard from her recently?" Layla finally spoke, and her voice was carefully controlled.

Andrew smiled at her with pleasure, "See how far politeness can get you, my good girl. You're learning quickly. And no, I haven't heard from her for quite some time but however long it takes. She will come back to me."

"What's her name?" Xander asked lightly. "Maybe we've met."

"I doubt it," replied Andrew with a contemptuous spit. "Her name is Darla. Famous amongst our kind. A Queen." A sudden yell distracted him, and Xander was disturbed to see his fangs flash in excitement, "It seems I must leave you now," said Andrew with a nod as he spun on his carefully shined patent-leather shoes and strode out of the cavern.

Xander fell backwards onto the plinth and his parched lips formed one word as he angrily stared up at the ceiling. "Darla."


	7. Chapter 7

**Seven**

"She's dead?"

Xander nodded and chuckled grimly as Layla swore opposite him. "You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"My mother's dead," replied Layla shortly, "And we'll join her soon if we don't get ourselves out of here." She flexed her wrists experimentally and braced herself, only to suddenly explode upwards like a rocket. The bonds snapped instantly, and she landed silently on her feet. "Right then," she smiled wickedly, the power returning to her, "Shall we make a move?"

She grabbed the ropes that bound Xander and quickly snapped them. He stood, difficultly at first, and she glanced at him with concern in her face. "Can you walk?"

"I can," said Xander with conviction and forced his limbs to obey him. Layla nodded at his response and gazed around the cavern. "My stave…" she murmured with regret.

"My pride," responded Xander. He glanced at the Slayer and rolled his eyes comically. "Come on."

She nodded and silently swept to the front of the cavern, "Follow me." It was an order that Xander quickly responded to and they moved quietly out into the long darkened corridors.

Layla walked quickly, her head constantly turning as if she was almost sensing the way out. She held up her hand at one point and he realised she was feeling for the fresh air that would reveal access to the surface. It had been a long time since he'd been stuck underground. It felt like yesterday really, the sudden fear that flooded him and the anger – the sheer bitter anger when he realised what had been living under his nose all those years. He swallowed suddenly as he remembered Jesse.

"Quickly!" snapped the Slayer, "The manhole cover!" She pushed him bodily and he gasped as he impacted into the decaying remnants of a ladder. His senses suddenly returned and he scrabbled upwards and into the hot midday sun. He fell to his knees and swung his hand down, grabbing Layla by her shoulder. The Slayer swore at him, twisted away and he suddenly saw shapes in the corridor beneath them.

"Jump Layla! Now!" He lay full flat on his stomach and braced himself, "Come ON!"

The Slayer grabbed the ladder and broke off a rung with breathtaking ease. She swung it around her, and he saw the tell-tale signs of dust in the sunlight. "LAYLA! LEAVE THEM!" He grabbed her again and pulled, skidding slightly as she struggled in his grip. Suddenly Layla exploded into the light and fell next to him, a dusty angry grey exhausted figure.

"LET ME GO!" She screamed at him as they lay there, both still motionless figures sprawled on what had been Cairo's main highway. "LET ME GO!" Layla punched the ground in frustration, watching the blood spill down her fingers. He rolled over to her, and slid his arm around her as she folded into the foetal position next to him, "Let me go," came the response, so quiet that he struggled to hear it, and then he just held her tightly and didn't care about who saw them as the Slayer cried her heart out.


	8. Chapter 8

**Eight**

"He didn't care whether we escaped or not."

"Y'think?" responded Xander as the two of them slowly made their way back up to where they'd abandoned the bike earlier. They had actually been underground for only a couple of hours, and the sun was still ferociously hot.

Layla's face still bore the marks of her tears and she studiously avoided his gaze. He had been surprised at the ferocity of her outburst and he had been surprised at his reaction. He had held her. Like a lover.

She turned to him suddenly, "I'm sorry." Her hand rested on his shoulder and almost unconsciously brushed some dirt away. "I-" Her voice trailed away and he found himself transfixed in those honey coloured eyes of hers.

"It's alright," he murmured awkwardly. "I mean, it's –" For once in his life, Xander Harris was lost for words.

"Everyone dies when they are with me," she said. "It – it scares me."

He looked at her with a feeling of respect. "It takes a lot of strength to admit fear."

"I did not have enough strength to kill him where he stood," muttered Layla, running a finger through her matted hair.

Xander took her hands in his. "I didn't mean that sort of strength." He tilted his head towards the bike. "Let's go back to the hotel. I need to update you on the situation – and the other Slayers should have arrived by now."

He clambered onto the bike and kicked it into gear. "Other Slayers," said Layla with a note of surprise in her voice, "I had forgotten all about them."

"Well, that does tend to happen when you're being held hostage by some fruit-loop-Vamp-with-the-hotties-for-the-blonde-Angel-ex-girl-that's-not-Buffy."

She laughed then, and he saw her wide smile in the mirror. He revved the bike up and let it loose down the still empty streets, watching the Slayer – his Slayer – tilt her head back and let her hair fly out behind them.


	9. Chapter 9

**Nine**

"Hello there," said Xander suavely, ignoring the receptionist as she cast a startled glance at the state of him and Layla, "Have there been any messages for me?"

The girl shook her head mutely before disappearing into the back. Xander darted a glance at Layla, "Was it something I said?" She shrugged and looked as confused as he did.

A few moments passed before the girl skittered back out, clasping a new key and a slip of paper. "I came on late," she murmured apologetically, "Your room is now Three Oh Seven, and there has been a message. Two young women called earlier, and said they would return this evening."

Xander nodded his thanks before leading Layla up the stairs. "I've got a bottle of water or two so you could take a quick wash if you want to," he commented as he unlocked his new room.

"I would like that," replied Layla softly and she took them off him before disappearing into the bathroom.

He sat down, listening to the splashes of water, and suddenly realised he had to cross his legs. Wincing slightly he turned to the notes he had scrawled the previous night and began to read through them, attempting to distract himself from naughty thoughts about the girl.

The girl. In his bathroom. Scantily clad.

He rapidly thought of Giles then and with some relief found himself calming down. He pushed his pretend glasses back up his nose, and flicked through the pages trying to tie in this 'thing' that Andrew had been searching for.

The noises in the bathroom faded and Layla materialised opposite him, her wet hair knotted loosely over her shoulder. "So," she said, all business again, "What did you find?"

He grinned at her professionalism and spread the papers over the bed between them. "Last night, whilst you were off gallivanting, I was researching. It seems that the death of the girl – you know, the one in the museum – seemed to fit the m.o of the Sh'Heltha cult. These guys are bad, they killed and rampaged like good uns back in the year dot, and I guess the Smackdown of the First wound them up a little. They'd been in hiding, driven back by the wars over the years – there was even some special army squadron back in the 1920's specifically sent to burn them out."

"But they didn't get them all?" Layla looked at a neat little notated fax print-out. "This guy says with absolutely no irony that they probably went underground."

"Yep," replied Xander, "And what with the whole bigger fish to fry, the Sh'Heltha sorta well,"

"They forgot about them." Her face was stern as she scanned the notes. "Nobody thought of telling the Council?"

"Oh the council knew," said Xander slowly, "But the council back then, they were different Layla. They were selfish and wrong and so very misguided. As far as I can tell, the Watcher who was overseeing Egypt didn't want to lose face."

"He lied, didn't he?" She ran her fingers over her knuckles, where the bruises were already fading, her mouth moving slightly as she read the smaller text.

"The squadron were decimated and the Watcher disappeared after filing one last report." He looked at her with interest, wondering if she would make the same connection that he had. "He disappeared … in 1934."

Her face formed a small round O of surprise and anger as she registered the implication.

He nodded. "His name was Andrew Edwardes-Smith."

"So what's the cult want?" She looked challengingly at him. "You've got all the answers, yes?" Her mood had notably shifted, and he felt slightly unnerved.

"That should wait until we meet the others." She so knew that he was bluffing. Xander held his hands up defensively, "Alright, I don't really know."

"And how do we break it to Mr Evil that his mother's dead?" Layla stood up impatiently, "More people will die whilst we wait for these children!"

"Stop it," said Xander dangerously, "Stop it. You have no right to say that."

"I have every right," snapped Layla, leaning towards him, "You want to stop and wait then fine. I must go and try to save my country. Again." She was viciously close to him now, her breath coming in short sharp bursts as her anger erupted.

"You're not going," replied Xander, "You're not going. Not yet and Not alone."

Layla looked at him with incredulity, "You can't stop me!" She motioned towards the bed with her hand, "That's your place if you're so afraid."

He grabbed her hand suddenly, a fire dancing before his eye, "Do you want to see what happened last time I left on a mission without knowing the full facts? Without the necessary backup? Do you?" Xander ripped his patch away from his eye and stood there, panting slightly as the adrenalin kicked in, "I lost my eye Layla; I lost my GOD DAMN EYE!"

She froze, fixated by the gaping maw where his eye should be. They stood, silent and shaking, staring at each other.

"God," he said eventually, "God." He pulled himself away from her gaze, hurriedly replacing his patch. "I – I shouldn't have said that," he muttered as he dropped his head into his hands, "I'm sorry."

Layla remained still and suddenly he sensed her presence by him as she dropped to her knees and grasped his head between her hands. Her fingers seemed to frame his cheeks and he lifted his face to hers. "Xander," she murmured and her breath cooled him. "Oh Xander," she said again and he felt her lips against his and he responded, moving his arms around her and holding her against him.

It could have been the start of something beautiful but it was just then that the knocks sounded on his door.


	10. Chapter 10

**Ten**

Xander sighed and cursed softly. "This always happens," he assured Layla as they slowly peeled away from each other. She simply flushed and studiously avoided his gaze, instead aimlessly flicking through the notes on the bed.

He opened the door and looked politely at the two Slayers. "Hathor and Keket?"

The taller girl inclined her head gracefully, "I am Keket." She looked pointedly inside the room where Layla sat, "May we come in?"

Xander nodded and the two girls came inside. He darted a quick look up and down the corridor, wondering whether his neighbours would have marked him down as some big American pimp daddy. But of course, he suddenly chided himself with a grin, he was probably the only room let on this floor. He closed the door and felt his inner schoolboy cheer with excitement at the sight of three stunning young women sat on his bed.

"Right, uh," he stuttered slightly as he tried to ignore the delightful mental images he was currently processing, "Shall we begin?"

Keket nodded politely and stood up, "Will you sit down O Watcher?" She was very tall and angular with thick dark hair. She kinda reminded him of those whippet dogs; all stretched out and pointed bones.

"I'm not a Watcher," he replied slowly, "It's, um, kind of complicated."

"He's from the Council," interjected Layla smoothly, "The New Council." She motioned to them both, "Sit."

They sat. Layla seemed to have assumed sudden control as she updated the Slayers on their morning activities. She made an unconscious gesture with her hands when she referred to Andrew and Xander felt the need to break in.

"What does that mean?" He crossed his fingers slightly, mimicking Layla.

Hathor answered him in slightly bored tones. "It is to ward off Evil. Please – continue."

Layla looked with surprise at Xander before the girl had finished speaking. They had both been shocked by Hathor's rudeness, and he found himself feeling quite offended. He swallowed his tongue however and nodded slightly to Layla who continued quietly.

"We believe that the Sh'Heltha may still exist, and that this Andrew is now working with them for some purpose we have yet to discover." Layla glanced fleetingly out of the window and her face seemed to harden at the setting of the sun. "We need to remind these monsters who is in charge."

"And how do you propose we do that?" asked Hathor languidly, "It is too late and we are, as you say, shutting the door after the horse has bolted." She picked up a sheet of notes and carefully folded it into a point and stabbed it repeatedly into her fingernails.

"We kill them," snapped Keket suddenly, "It is what we do." She flushed and darted a quick glance at Xander. "I am sorry," she murmured graciously, "but I see no point in beating around the bush."

"No beating around here," replied Xander smartly. Hathor had subsided into an almost sullen silence and he was reminded of Dawn during her worst moments. Unfortunately pizza and the Backstreet Boys didn't look to be this Slayer's happy place. He turned slightly and grasped a rumpled map out of his bag. "I understand you're both fairly well acquainted with the city. I propose we quarter it – you, Keket, you work here, and Hathor you take the West side. Layla and I will cover the rest."

He hadn't known that he would be pairing with Layla until his mouth had ran away with itself. He risked looking at her and saw with pleasure how the corners of her face crinkled back at him.

Keket unfurled herself from the bed and smoothed her hair back into a tight ponytail. "Do we return here?"

"Yeah, I mean, yes. There's spare rooms in the hotel; you just pick up your key from reception. I'll clear it," said Xander, feeling terribly efficient. Layla raised an amused eyebrow at him as she stood up, and he flushed with embarrassment before shaking it away. "I suggest we generally spread the word. Tell the bad guys that the Slayer's are back. Let's see if that shakes anything out of the woodwork. And if you run into this Andrew guy – leave him to us." Layla's hand suddenly tightened around his wrist and he gasped slightly before continuing, "Leave Andrew to us."

Keket nodded and slipped out of the room silently. He was amazed at how catlike her movements were – they were so reminiscent of Kendra. Hathor, slightly more heavy-set, took longer to rise and he noticed how she was staring at him with that strange look of almost distrust.

"Is everything okay?" he asked her politely. "I know it's a lot to take in isn't it. Still kill, crush, destroy. The usual job." He smiled winningly at the Slayer.

"I will see you tomorrow," came the cold response. She walked quickly out of the room, and tossed the crumpled piece of paper behind her with unerring accuracy. It landed heavily into the bin, the noise echoing into the suddenly quiet room.


	11. Chapter 11

**Eleven**

"I don't like her." Layla smacked her fist into a young vampire and backhanded him into the wall where Xander stood.

He neatly staked the vampire and coughed. "Do you think you can get passive dusting?"

"Don't sidetrack," replied the Slayer as she kicked the hell out of the demon in front of her. "I do not like the girl and I do not trust her!" Layla finished with a huge grunt of exertion as she slammed her head forward into the vampire, and followed it up with her stake. She stood there, haloed by the dim streetlight as the dust fell around her and turned to Xander, stake grasped firmly in her hand. "I do not trust that girl."

Xander glanced sideways pointedly, "Are you gonna dust him or shall I?"

She darted a wicked grin at him. "It is my job after all," commented Layla as she spun neatly on her heels and snapped out one leg into the vampire. He dropped and impacted heavily on the ground and Layla was on him instantly. She smacked his face to the side and grabbed his neck between her hands, giving a neat little twist. The inevitable occurred and moments later she was shaking the dust off her shoulders.

"Come on," said Xander suddenly, "We've got an appointment." He grabbed her slim wrist and pulled her towards him, the two of them running madly down the street. It wasn't as if they were in any danger but they still ran. It was like they were children running helter-skelter down the hill and they ran like they had wings and he didn't know whether he'd be able to let go of her hand when they stopped.

They skidded to a halt at the base of a long thin path, thronged by shadowy half-shapes and framed at each side by the huge dark shadows of the Pyramids. "Are you up to it?" he turned, but she was already gone, her hand slipped out of his and he had never noticed. "LAYLA!" yelled Xander, sudden panic in his tones, and a figure dropped out of the darkness beside him.

"Are you going to wait here all night?" There was blood on her mouth, a long thin cut and Xander suddenly had an urge to hold her and take her away from all this. She rocked slightly on her heels, the light of battle in her eyes and smiled at him, "I'm sick of killing the wannabe's. Let's take this battle to him."

The Watcher that wasn't really a Watcher nodded and shifted himself into a battle stance, his dark eye counting the nasties in front of them. "I'm ready," he replied, cold and calculating.

His Slayer nodded and loved him then. She kissed him passionately on the lips, her blood mixing with the dust and dirt on his face. The red smear on his cheek looked like some bizarre war-mark, and she revelled in it because it claimed him as hers.

They held each other and breathed in their scent. He held her and whispered an incantation of sorts to those gods he believed in, asking them to keep them safe. His Slayer just turned to him, her eyes dark flames that pulled him into her, and she murmured lovingly into his ear.

"I have not yet begun to fight."


	12. Chapter 12

Please be aware that this chapter has Strong Language and Violence a plenty. If you're a young 'un, please do not read this. Everyone else, thanks for sticking with me this far - we're almost at the home stretch...

**Twelve**

He ducked slightly, and let the punch fly over him before slamming his foot forwards and grinning as the Vampire doubled over in pain.

"Good work," said Layla, suddenly appearing beside him. They had cleared a wide swathe upwards to the Pyramid where they had been captured earlier. Both of them stood for a moment in the sweltering night air.

"I'm not built for this," grumbled Xander as he bent over and forced air back into his lungs. "I hope the others are okay." He suddenly realised how Giles must have felt every time he had sent Buffy out on a mission.

"They'll be fine," replied Layla as she rubbed her hands in the dirt. She noticed Xander's surprised expression, "It's to keep the grip, for when my hands get sweaty."

"Wow, I wish I'd had that when I was younger," he cracked, smiling at her confusion, and then he screamed.

Keket stood beside him. And the head of Hathor swung gently from her hand.

Her dead eyes stared vacantly at him and he felt his knees buckle beneath him. As he dropped to the sand, he saw Layla out of the corner of his eye frozen with horror. The dark Slayer laughed at them both and pressed herself into him, in a bitter mockery of the embrace Xander and Layla had shared moments earlier.

"You killed her, you killed her," whispered Keket in his ear. "You killed her because you wanted to be alone with your whore. Murderer. Filthy whoring layabout."

He couldn't speak. Just couldn't speak.

Keket suddenly threw the head of the girl at him, her eyes flashing with darkness. "My Gods! The Summers whore sent you! YOU! You who are nothing but a mere mortal! You can never hope to defeat us!" She screamed her triumph into the night sky as Xander shied away from Hathor's head which rolled to a stop in the sand, her thick hair matted with the Egyptian dust.

Keket looked darkly at Layla and laughed. "Where is your fighting spirit now?" said the Dark Slayer, rubbing her blooded hand across Layla's face. "You cannot hope to beat us."

Layla seemed to drop at this statement and her whole body folded in on itself. Keket laughed again, and the sound cut into Xander like a knife.

And then Layla woke up. She stood straight up and her eyes seemed free of the fear stupor that so gripped Xander. Keket snarled suddenly and slammed her face forwards into the girls face and he heard the crunch of breaking bone.

"Stay down," ordered the Dark Slayer, "Or I kill your man and there's no more whoring."

She smacked Layla hard across the shoulders and the Slayer dropped heavily into the sand. "No more whoring," sang Keket softly, "We are about the kill."

Layla tilted her head towards Keket with intense savagery in her eyes. "I am not like you."

"Oh but you are," smiled Keket as she booted the girl in her stomach. "You have no idea." She smiled at the crumpled body underneath her. "I could kill you like that."

"But you won't," said Xander slowly, tearing himself away from his fear. He stood, "If you were going to do that, you'd have done it already. If you're all about the Kill or whatever."

Keket grinned, "You're right. For once."

Layla suddenly screamed with anger and snapped her leg up into Keket. The girl seemed to hang in mid air before impacting hard on the ground and Layla leapt up. "Run!" snapped the Slayer at Xander, "I can take care of this."

Keket scissor-kicked the younger girl, laughing manically as her feet impacted into Layla's chest. The two Slayers began to battle in earnest, each lightening fast and terrifying in their ferocity.

Suddenly Layla received a back-kick from Keket and she flew away from her, only to twist in mid air and land lightly on her feet. It seemed that they had both forgotten about Xander and he just stood there, his mouth open, rooted to the spot watching the leviathans battle in front of him.

The Dark Slayer slammed her whole body into Layla and then screamed as the younger girl jabbed her fingers into her eyes. She drew back sharply and Layla, like some beautiful deadly snake, hurled herself at the Dark Slayer, her stake outstretched and Xander saw the blood dark pool and the Slayers fell.

The light seemed to dance on her throat as he caught her, the blood staining his hands, and he sobbed then, he sobbed desperately at her death.

And then her eyes opened. Eyes that looked straight at him and he remembered the first moment he'd seen her, shadowy death-giving figure in the darkness, and he sobbed again with sudden relief as the fear left him.

For his Slayer lived.

He folded himself over Layla, not caring anymore, and he smoothed her hair away from her face, his touch reaffirming his possession of her. Words came from his mouth, bizarre meaningless words but he had to say them and tell her – tell her everything.

"She lives?"

He snapped upright, cradling the unconscious Slayer in his arms as the figure came out of the darkness.

Andrew nodded his approval at the carnage in front of him. "Reminds me of my girl. That Slayer's a fiery one, isn't she."

"I will kill you," said Xander slowly, not moving a single inch, his fear turned into vicious ice cold anger.

"I doubt that," replied the Vampire pleasantly. "Oh come on, I had a Slayer myself once. I know what it's like, this Watcher business. I know the ridiculous bond that develops." He spat suddenly into his palm and rubbed the spit into his shoes, appreciatively noting the quick shine that appeared. "Of course," he said, slowly raising his head and meeting Xander's cold stare with yellow eyes, "I ate my Slayer."

Andrew walked towards Keket and picked the girl up, looking at her with interest. "Do you think that Slayer's blood still tastes the same after the … moment if you will?" He bit deeply into the girl's neck only to toss her away with disgust, and an injured expression on his face. "Obviously not."

"What did you do to her?" Xander still didn't move. He would not.

The Vampire looked surprisingly pleased. "You guessed she was one of mine?"

"You just seemed like the kinda guy to share the love," sneered Xander, "We escaped you once, and that had to piss you off."

Andrew's fangs flashed viciously in the darkness, "Correct, boy. The girl was an … aide-de-camp. I didn't Change her because I needed an operative on the surface – in the day."

"How forward thinking of you."

He bowed mockingly. "Thank you dear boy. Now, about that girl of yours." His eyes glowed with hunger, "It has been a long time since I have tasted a Slayer."

"And it's not going to be this day," snarled Xander. He tossed his head towards the rising sun. "Burn, you bastard, burn."

The Vampire growled his displeasure before racing for the shadows, his skin already smoking behind him.

Xander watched him go. And finally he turned, Layla still held in his arms, and walked past the devastation, past the bodies, past the girls and he just walked.

And walked.

And mourned his Slayers.


	13. Chapter 13

**Thirteen**

He sat, cross-legged and motionless on the bed, his arms resting gently on his thighs. He closed his eye slowly and began to count in his head, slowly and steadily.

One

He was so tired.

Two

Willow had taught him how to meditate, telling him how much it had helped her during the ol' black roots issue. Her face suddenly floated into his vision, the sweet smile interrupting his thoughts and he firmly pushed her away.

Three.

He breathed again, closing himself off from the world, and saw Keket laughing in front of him. The blood swam around her and he almost screamed as he-

Four.

Alone again, and he wondered if he would ever reach ten. The magic number. He heard a sharp hiss in his ear and Andrew appeared in his mind, that same sardonic smile on his face as he leered towards him.

Five.

Andrew was still there, and he saw his fangs lengthen and bite into a young girl, face buried in the demons shoulder. The Vampire cracked a smile at him and waved him graciously over.

Six.

Xander stepped away, but the Vampire caught him and touched him – he touched him! – and pulled him closer. "She's yours," nodded the Vampire professionally, "I saved some for you."

Seven.

Andrew threw the girl towards him and she spun in the air before crashing into him and knocking him to the ground. Xander scrabbled out from underneath the body and stared reluctantly into her eyes.

Eight.

It was his fault. His fault. He'd killed her like he'd killed everyone else. She lay there and her eyes suddenly opened and she gazed with surprise at the blood that was running down her dress.

NINE!

He screwed his eyes shut and screamed the number inside of his head, but he could still see her and he still saw Andrew in his mind, he saw them. The girl turned to him and with a puzzled look in her eyes spoke. "He has defiled us."

Ten.

And he knew what to do.


	14. Chapter 14

**Fourteen**

Layla opened her eyes slowly and saw Xander sitting opposite her. "Hello," she whispered, easing herself up off the bed and beginning to stretch out her stiff limbs.

"Hello yourself," he replied gently, "how d'you feel?"

She twisted her neck to the side and with a satisfied smile felt her muscles move with her. "I feel …" and she turned to him, sliding her arms around his body, "I feel better." They sat for a moment, entangled in each other before Xander reluctantly pulled himself away from her.

His eye was feverishly bright and she noticed how tightly he clutched a sheaf of notes in his hand. "Have you found out more?" asked the Slayer as she smoothed her lissom body into a comfier position.

"Yup," nodded Xander, "It's all good. Well, it's all Evil, Evil, Evil really but in the context I mean it's all good. And I'll stop the babble-fest now."

"Please do," grinned Layla.

He sat down beside her and shook out his notes. "What do you know about Sun-Temples?"

"Do I look like an Egyptologist Mr Harris?"

"Do I?" He shrugged and referred back to his notes, "According to the G-Man, they're temples which were created during a big fad when the Egyptians worshipped Ra, the Sun God. There's one of these temples just in front of the Sphinx and it's apparently the eldest in existence."

Layla shrugged her shoulders eloquently, "And?"

"If you'd let me finish," grumbled Xander as he turned over a piece of paper covered in his long looping handwriting. "There's a mention somewhere of the Pyramids being called 'the place of Osiris, Lord of rastaw,' and as all good students know, Osiris was the God of the Underworld and death and such and also a handy guy to have along in a resurrection ritual. Now I googled like I've never googled before and Rastaw seems to have something to do with underground tunnels; which as we both well know stretch underneath the Pyramids and into Cairo itself."

He paused for breath and grimaced eloquently. "It's a good job I wrote all this down."

Layla's eyes slowly widened as she slowly put two and two together. "Are there any tunnels leading between the sphinx and the pyramids...?"

"Ten out of ten and a gold star," nodded Xander with a wide grin. "I think we may have a cunning plan."


	15. Chapter 15

(please note any mistakes in Egyptology type stuff - my fault - it's fiction!)

**Fifteen**

"Did you know that the Arabic name for the Sphinx is _Abu al-Hol_?" said Layla suddenly as they walked up the long and winding path towards the Pyramids.

"Should I?" replied Xander, sweeping his hand over his face as the sweat salted into his vision.

"Just thought you'd be interested to know that the _Abu al-Hol _translates something like Father of Terror," said Layla serenely as she strolled alongside of him, seemingly unaffected by the suffocating heat.

His eye widened with surprise, "That _is_ interesting," he commented slowly, pausing for a second to snatch a welcome breath.

Layla nodded, "Names are powerful things. I've heard of certain tribes who give their children many names – one for public, one for family and one name which remains secret throughout their life. You have a power when you know someone else's name. Layla, as I told you when we first met, means Born at Night. I was born at the height of the midday sun, and I often wondered why my mother called me thus. It seemed … inappropriate. And then I was Chosen, and finally, I think I understood. I was reborn and the darkness became my home."

She stood proudly, and with the pyramids behind her, looked like some reincarnated Goddess. There was nothing he could say, nothing he wanted to say and he merely shifted the weight in his backpack and eased his legs into the slow steady walk that would eventually lead them onto the Giza plateau.

For their plan to work, there were several factors to be taken into account and it was safer to do these in the sun – when nobody tall dark and evil would be watching. Layla and Xander skimmed around the base of Khafre's Pyramid and made their way towards Khufu's Pyramid; which stood directly behind the Sphinx.

"We enter here," remarked Xander and gazed down towards the Sphinx. All around them were deserted poles and tarpaulins which bore the hallmarks of one-time excavation work. Layla quickly moved over to the area and began to search for an entrance into the catacombs, whilst Xander began to walk towards the Sphinx, and the remains of the Sun Temple that lay in front of it.

He counted out loud in groups of ten before stopping and carefully noting it down on his pad, singing softly as he did so, "Preparation, preparation, preparation." He heard the thud of feet behind him, and Layla appeared by his side, hair loose around her dark tanned face. She remained silent however until they both stopped at the entrance to the Temple, and finally she uttered a single word.

"Here?"

And he confirmed it, as the blood red sun began to set and cast fire across the sky behind him. "Here."


	16. Chapter 16

**Sixteen**

The moment before a battle – or indeed any confrontation – is a still one. We think of those we love, those people who have helped us and those people who we do not want to leave alone on this planet. It is almost as if by holding the image of a loved one in our heads, we expect to root ourselves to life, and prevent the inevitable.

Xander was thinking about his parents. The man who had beaten him down from day one and the woman who had never given him anything. He forgave them. There were bigger things in his life now. He thought about Willow and Buffy and Dawn, picturing in his head that moment on the outcrop where he had brought Willow back from the brink and saved the world. He remembered the sharp pulling in his stomach after he'd first seen Buffy hesitantly making her way up the school steps, and he involuntary winced as he relived falling off his skateboard. He thought of the dead that he had loved and he made a wish that if it was to be so, then it would be quick.

Layla was remembering the small O of surprise that had formed on Keket's mouth when she had … killed her. No. Saved her. She had saved her. She saw then in her mind rows and rows of faceless women, each resting a hand on the ground, and she shivered slightly because she knew these were other Slayers. Working in Cairo, as the city fell apart around her, had been so terrifying. She had been alone. And if she had died then, nobody would have mourned her. But if she died now? At least she would not die forgotten. And that gave her a bizarre feeling of comfort.

They were at the top of the hill now, and Layla led him to the small entrance she had discovered earlier. She quietly shifted the tarpaulin back and pointed at a thin crack that led towards the Pyramid. "It's an air-shaft," she pointed out, lifting away boulders and further uncovering the entrance.

It was pitch black inside and Xander wrinkled his nose as the smell of the underground reached him. "I do wish they'd wash occasionally," he said as he pulled out two torches from his bag and handed one to his Slayer.

She smiled as they suddenly held each other tightly and he murmured into her ear, "You ready?"

"Ready," said the Slayer, that familiar fire in her eyes, and nodded professionally, "Block me in." He wanted to keep hold of her, but she balanced on the top of the hole and winked at him, before dropping into the darkness.

He caught his cry of panic in his throat, and forced the tarpaulin back over the hole, kicking shovels and spades over it to weigh it down. And then, like the professional he was, he began to run back down to the Temple. He had a lot to do, and only a few hours to do it in.

And he had to hope she would still be alive at the end of it. At the end of all things.


	17. Chapter 17

Apologies for delay in production, however here it is.

**Seventeen**

Xander hurtled heavily into the Temple, skidding slightly so that his body impacted heavily into the wall. His hand grated across the sandstone and he swore viciously, sucking his bloodied knuckles as he grabbed his breath back.

He lit the first torch and placed it by the Temple's entrance, ramming the long thin stick down into the sand and twisting it at an angle. "Come on beasties," he murmured as the flames licked into the night sky, "Come an' get it."

He glanced quickly into the darkness in front of him, and scanned the notes he had made. "Ten down, three left, and straight on 'til morning." The irony of his directions struck him suddenly and he snorted out loud with amusement.

"Okay," he muttered, "Nobody heard it Harris, you're still cool, you're still cool."

With his foot he drew a long thin line in the sand and burrowed in his rucksack for the container of salt he had stolen from the hotel. He poured it into the furrow, murmuring as he did so and praying that his little red witch had told him true. The pyramids loomed in the darkness and he twisted himself to stare at them, carefully preventing his feet from crossing the ward. The flames strangely comforted him and he grinned, carefully masking his fear over Layla. "Well," he murmured, looking at the lights of the city below, "It's time to take back the night."

He opened his rucksack again and pulled out a torch, flicking it on and carefully illuminating each section of the ruins. There was no point whatsoever in making a protective ward if you kept the Evil in, rather than keeping it out. Protective Ward Rule Number One. Satisfied that the Temple was clean, he repeated the incantation Willow had given him, emptied out the salt into the sand and jogged down the steps into the darkness.

He counted out loud as he entered the Temple, carefully keeping track of his steps, and quickly found the place that Giles had described to him. "Right again," he muttered, switching his torch off to save the batteries and running his hands across the wall. Ever since he had lost his eye, he'd waited for his other senses to improve and turn him into Mr. Fantastic. Although maybe, he just wanted to be Mr. Fantastic so he could boff Jessica Alba.

"Woah, focus, focus," muttered Xander, as his fingers skimmed the surface. "Come on, secret button, mojo, whatever you are." He extended his fingers, pressing his whole palm against the cool rock and prayed he would find it soon.

Layla crept along the corridor. The darkness had consumed her when Xander had shut her in and she felt like she had returned. This was her home, this was her land, this was her life. And she wondered briefly if she could ever live it with another.

A sudden shift in the air beside her, and she twisted, matrixing her body out of the way as a spear crashed over her clattering into the earthen walls. She fixed on a slight difference in the darkness, and heard him moving towards her. Her leg smashed out and she smiled grimly as she felt him crash onto the floor. It was an easy maneuver after that for her to snake forward, pinning him on the floor and stake him swiftly.

She moved silently through the corridors as if she had been born there. Her brief recce earlier had fixed the locations of the Pyramid and the Sphinx in her head, and she nodded as she felt herself moving slowly up hill.

Her plan was simple. Flush them out. Kill them. There was certainly a sort of elegance about it, and she suddenly laughed out loud as she flung her stake in front of her before stepping through the whisper soft shower of dust.

The Slayer steadily made her way up through the passages, ambushing anyone she found there. She knew what she had to do.

He yelled gleefully as he found a loose stone and pushed it inwards. "Yes!" cried Xander as the stone crumbled in front of him to reveal a long thin fissure in the wall. He ran his hands up it, swearing slightly as insects scurried away from the disturbance, and scrawled a thick chalk mark halfway up the wall. Pausing for a moment, he wrinkled his face with concern before consulting his crumpled notes.

"Don't leave me hangin' on … GOT IT!" He measured the length of his arm either side of the fissure and drew a similar chalk line, ultimately connecting the three like some bizarre Da Vinci version of Join the dots.

Xander smiled with satisfaction. "And I failed Art," he grumbled melodramatically as he rummaged in his rucksack for a hammer and chisel and began to slowly chip away at the fissure.

Layla was having fun. There was no doubt about it. She had stumbled across a nest, several vampires still sleeping off the excesses of the night before, and she had dusted them all.

She paused suddenly, aware of a strange familiarity to the current tunnel she was in. It had to be the one that led from the Pyramid right underneath the main road from the plateau. She was sure of it.

And she turned purposefully left, breaking into a ground swallowing run. She was almost there.

He had been steadily chipping at the stone for hours now, calmly, steadily working away. This was his land. His specialty. Here, just here in the calm before the storm, here he was in charge. The tools felt like extensions to his hands and he manipulated them with a quiet skill.

He could feel the night change around him, that slight shift in the air, the subtlety of the darkness altering and he knew that dawn was not far away and murmured a wordless prayer that she would be here in time.

The Slayer was moving quicker now. She glanced quickly at her watch before swearing and hurtling forward around yet another bend in the tunnels.

And she slammed into Andrew.

The Vampire dropped heavily underneath her, and there was a brief moment when they lay together with their limbs intertwined like lovers. Layla was the first to react and snatched herself off the demon, recoiling with disgust as she scrambled for her footing in the darkness.

Andrew rose slowly, his eyes gleaming vicious yellow and she noticed his fangs slowly lengthen down his face. "Well," he said with a silky menace, "I've heard of being reckless but really, coming into my lair? Into my domain? Pure stupidity my dear girl."

Layla didn't move. Her breath came ragged sharp and she stared down this thing, this demon that had brought her city to the brink. "You will pay for what you have done," she grunted, always unsure in the verbal battles that preceded the inevitable.

He laughed, and she unconsciously drew away from him. He stood there and laughed at her. "Brave little girl …" and he raised his hand and held it against his neck, drawing one manicured nail across his throat, "I think you're the one who will pay."

Something snapped inside her, and she realised she was screaming.

She ran.

And he followed.

Xander was starting to get nervous now. There was no sound, no sign, no nothing! Where the hell was she? God, she could be dead. He'd sent a girl to die.

Him, Giles' handpicked choice. Him, the one who'd fought by Buffy for so long. He'd done nothing here. Absolutely nothing. Two Slayers were dead. And it was all his fault.

He folded himself against the wall and waited, hoping against all hope that his premonition was not true.

Because if it was, then he didn't know what to do next.

"Slaaayer!" yelled Andrew, the amusement evident in his voice as he ran behind her. "Considerate of you to make me work up an appetite!" He was taunting her.

The Slayer ran.

And he kept pace with her. Easily. She knew though, that he could kill her if he wanted – when he wanted to. The fear ran through her like quicksilver and she felt her heart pounding inside her head as she hurtled through the tunnels.

She could see Xander now in front of her. He looked disappointed and she reached out to him, touched his arm, and murmured her apologies. She needed to make her peace before she died.

"It takes a lot of strength to admit fear" He rolled his eyes and motioned dismissively behind her, "Him? He's nothing. You're above that. You're a Slayer."

And she reached for him again and stumbled, slamming into the dirt floor, instinctively tucking her limbs in and heavily crashing into the wall. She was back on her feet immediately and glanced in front of her, where the apparition had been. There was nothing there anymore.

The sound of quick steps behind her made her break into her run again, but this time it was not fear that powered her.

She was a Slayer.

He was fingering his watch nervously; painfully aware that dawn was close. Timing in this plan was crucial.

Xander stood, and glanced at the wall that he'd been working on. He had chipped away at the stone so much that it almost resembled paper. He poked it curiously and grinned with satisfaction when the stones crumbled away under his touch.

And then the wall behind him exploded as two figures locked together crashed through the ancient stone. They rolled into the centre of the Temple, before breaking apart as one gave Xander a wicked smile.

"Hey honey," said Layla, dusted and blooded, "Miss me?"

Andrew rose and hurled himself at Layla, bestial anger curling his features as he slammed the girl into the hard slab floor. She flung him over her shoulder and rolled, holding her hand out for the weapon that Xander hastily flung at her.

"Over there!" yelled Xander, pointed at the chalk outline.

Layla nodded grimly and jumped in the air, snapping her foot out into Andrew's face. "How long?" she screamed as the vampire jumped her and she slammed her head into his. They held each other in a brief mockery of love before Layla viciously grabbed the demon between his legs and hurled him towards the chalked wall.

Xander held two fingers up and she sighed melodramatically before unleashing a devastating barrage of blows on Andrew who took them before returning them at her. She shivered underneath his attack before dropping to her knees and Matrixing her legs out in front of her like some deadly Cossack dancer and she smiled as she heard his kneecaps break under her assault.

Xander dropped one finger before shouting over to his Slayer, "Now!" Layla didn't seem to have heard and he yelled again before the words seemed to freeze in his throat as she bodily grabbed Andrew and hurled him into the chalked wall. Everything seemed to freeze for a moment as the stone shattered under his weight and he stumbled back into a small crevice, inhabited only by one small wooden figure. Dazed, he stood there for a moment and Layla hurled herself away as the sun finally rose and the light, the blessed light flooded into the temple and one shaft, one delicate fine shaft of sunlight shone directly into the crevice where Andrew sprawled.

He looked directly at them, his mouth forming a small O of surprise as the flames rose around him and then, finally, there was silence. And dust.


	18. Chapter 18

**Eighteen**

If you cut off the head, the body will fall.

Water came back to the city that same day. He remembered seeing children step hesitantly onto the street, hands grasping bottles of clear fresh liquid, and old women finally leaving their houses to stand in the sun once more.

The headlines screamed of the exciting discovery of the Altar in the Sun Temple, and somebody popped up from somewhere to take credit for it. He had read the interview earlier, noting with mild amusement as the authorities explained their careful excavating process and how the site had been clean save for an inordinate amount of dust.

"Is it always this way?" asked Layla as they sat at a small café, quietly watching Cairo come back to life.

Xander folded his pitta bread and dunked it merrily into the huge dish of rice that was between them. "What?" he said, swallowing swiftly, "What do you mean?"

"I just, it seemed so desolate only weeks ago and now? It is as if it had never happened."

He wiped his hands and gazed at her steadily, "I have a friend who once told me Carpe Diem. Seize the Day." He gestured at the people around them, still few but they were there – they were there! "Cairo's been living in fear, and nobody'll ever know what happened. Save us. All they know is that someone somewhere is looking out for them. And I guess, that's all that matters."

"Yes," murmured Layla, her deep honey coloured eyes fixed on Xander as he returned hungrily back to the rice, "That matters."

Thanks to all who've read this far, much appreciated.


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